Follow The Yellow Flowers
by SilverHeartShine
Summary: Senna is a girl with so many mysteries, SHE doesn't even know them all. However fate has ordered her to join the Knights as they bring Alecto back to Hadrian's Wall. Possibilities of love, death, and power unfold before them all on the journey.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first KA fanfic, and my second fanfic EVER, so go a little easy on me...Still, I do hope you like it! I don't feel like updating unless I know people are enjoying the story so please review!**

**There will eventually be a romance between Senna and one of the knights. I'm not sure who yet, thought. I tried to have her notice each of them in this chapter, to give them all a "fair chance". I just can't say who she is going to pick yet. I know I didn't develop much character in this chapter-wait till the second chapter, that one will get a little deeper. Senna has some surprises in store for these knights...surprises SHE doesn't even know about yet.**

**Enjoy!!!! **

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Senna slowed Dusk's gallop as she spotted the fort through the trees. Just before she broke through the line between forest and field, she halted the stallion and turned to look into the green, shadowy wood.

"Thank you" she called.

Though she couldn't see them, she knew there were Woads somewhere nearby. There always were. Having never bothered them, they let the young woman pass through their territory without hindering her. Senna never knew why they hadn't killed her when they had first found her four years ago. She had been sixteen, and a runaway from a ravaged Roman encampment. But for some reason, they had let her live. They had not helped her as she had learned to survive on her own, but that hadn't troubled Senna. She had learned the harsh lessons of how to survive on the land, but she had also learned the blessings that came from a life of true freedom.

A freedom she was about to sacrifice. Sighing, she turned away from the forest, and urged Dusk into a canter towards what was probably an imminent imprisonment...towards the home of Marius Honorious, a man reknowned for his cruelty.

She was not there for him, however. She was there for the six Sarmatian knights and their Briton/Roman leader, Arthur Castus. She had dreamed of these knights, men she had never seen, for the past three weeks. Deep in her soul she felt the certainty that she was meant to go with them back to Hadrian's Wall. Still, that didn't stop the growing feeling of dread as she approached the estate.

She could hear shouting as the Knights milled about in front of Marius's home. She watched as the one she knew as Arthur dismounted, and ordered the large knight Dagonet to break down a small stone wall. Senna was puzzled--why break down a wall? Then the stones crumbled, and a door became visible. Dagonet also broke through this. Then he, Arthur, Lancelot, and Gawain all walked through the door.

Moments later Arthur rushed out, shouting. "Water! Give me some water!" In his arms was Guinevere.

Senna lost her balance and slipped over Dusk's withers before she managed to right herself. Though she had never personally spoken to the Woad princess, she knew who Guinevere was, and had seen her before in the forest, many times, perhaps moreso than any of the other Woads. When had she been captured by the Romans?

Senna was at the edge of the small village that surrounded the estate now. She paused again, irritated with herself, but not willing to go on just yet. Dusk pinned his ears, snaking his head down.

"Shut up," She snapped. "You aren't the one who's head is going to get lopped off if I startle them."

She heard one of the knights mutter "She's a woad."

She couldn't catch who said it. For a moment she was afraid that they would harm Guinevere, but then she shook her head. Arthur had rescued her. Even through her dreams she had been able to tell that once Arthur considered a person under his protection, not even hell and high water would harm them. Arthur at this moment was murmuring assurances to the young woman. Senna snickered quietly.

Dusk snorted, loudly enough that Galahad, who was nearest to her, glanced in her direction. "Arthur," He said, nodding in her direction.

Feeling extremely stupid, Senna smiled and waved, nudging Dusk forward, "Hello, Sir Knights,"

Oh, well that sounded...brilliant. What a wonderfully witty greeting, what an apt phrase for the strange circumstances. She shut off her mental tirade. Really, how long had it been since she had spoken to anyone other than the occasional Woad, or her horse?

She glanced over to where Dagonet was bending over a little boy. She had heard someone say he had a broken arm. Dismounting from Dusk she walked over to him, pulling a small packed of herbs from her shoulder-bag.

"Give him this, Sir," She smiled at the huge knight, "It will slow fever and encourage his body to mend."

"You are a healer?" He asked her.

"Not in the way you mean," Senna replied, "but I do know how to mend sickness."

"Stop what you are doing!" Someone shouted behind her. Senna turned to look at Marius as he strode furiously towards Arthur.

Standing up, the Commander glared at the Roman man, "What is this madness?"

Marius was so outraged, Senna judged him but a moment away from pure hysteria. "They are all pagans here!" He screamed.

"So are we." Galahad told him.

"They refused to do the tasks God set for them. They must die as an example!" Marius defended himself.

"You mean they refused to be your serfs!" Arthur shouted.

Senna looked up from the boy, "And him?" She asked quietly, "What task did a _child_ refuse to do, that you would condemn him to this fate?"

Marius glared at her, then shook his head, turning to Arthur incredulously. "You are a Roman, you understand. And you are a Christian!" He then snarled at his wife, who was bent worryingly over Guinevere. "You! You kept her alive!" His struck her hard with his fist, and Fulcinia fell backwards.

Before Marius could hit her again, however, Arthur hit him, knocking the shorter man to the ground and holding him their with his sword. The soldiers started to rush forwards.

"No! No! Stop!" Marius shouted at them.

"God help us, the man has a grain of intelligence in there somewhere," Senna muttered to herself, brushing a lock of hair away from the boys forehead.

Marius muttered something along the lines of Arthur paying for his "heresy". Senna snickered, her amused increasing as Arthur responded with a threat of his own. She waited with interest, until she heard a hoarse voice.

"I was willing to die with them, yes to lead them to their rightful place. It is God's wish that these sinners be sacrificed, only then can their souls be saved."

Arthur looked at the priest who had spoken, his eyes cold. "Then I shall grant his wish. Wall them back up." He ordered.

"Arthur," Tristan said warningly.

"I said wall them up!" Arthur shouted.

The priests gave several more whining comments that Senna didn't care to really hear as they were shoved back into the dungeon. Arthur then turned and looked at her.

"Who are you?" He demanded.

"My name is Senna," She replied with a smile, standing and pushing away the white-blonde strands of hair that had fallen into her eyes.

"What is your business here?" Arthur elaborated. Senna knew he wanted to know the purpose for her presence, and probably a small note of her background--not her name. Still, that was all she was willing to give him at the moment.

"It doesn't matter, at the moment." She told him briskly. "You shouldn't be wasting time interrogating me when death is marching towards us."

"You speak like a Roman." This was Gawain.

He had moved away from the dungeons door, where the villagers were excitedly re-bricking the entrance to the dungeon. Now he swung onto his horse to stare at Senna, though he spoke no more words.

Glancing around, Senna realized they were all staring at her.

"Right now, I think you'll be happy to simply hear me say I'm not a Saxon. You know, the men who are coming here right now? To kill you?" She turned away from the knights to mount Dusk.

Arthur gave her one last frown, then turned to the people surrounding him. They had only the few wagons and horses from Marius's house. They would be moving slowly. Too slowly, Senna knew. The knights knew as well. They glanced uneasily from the villagers to their commander, who was addressing the villagers.

"Travel in a line. Put the injured and the weak in the wagons. Dagonet, you will ride with the woman and the boy."

He mounted his horse, then turned to canter to the front of the loosely formed line the villagers had created. Senna waited to bring up the rear. Lancelot did the same, his face a mask of supressed anger.

"You're cute when you are pouting," Senna told him with a straight face. Perhaps she had never met the man, but she had dreamed of them all often enough to know how to tease them.

He stared at her, and Senna laughed. As the line of wagons, knights, and villagers began moving at a steady pace, he urged his horse into a canter and moved ahead of her. Senna didn't miss the glance he gave to make sure she was not following him. Beneath her, Dusk gave a little hop.  
"I wasn't hurting anyone. It was funny!" She defended, "don't forget you are the one who was so eager to rush in here."

Senna halted him and turned to give the forest behind the small fortress one last look. Those trees had been her home for nearly three years. She did not want to leave them, and yet she could not force herself to lie and say they had truly contented her. She shook her head. Whether she liked it or not, fate had placed her here. Why was a question she wanted an answer too. But she knew she wasn't going to get it. At least not yet.

"Goodbye," She murmured, then turned forward, urging Dusk into a trot to catch up with the last wagon.


	2. Chapter 2

She arrived at the wagon carrying Guinevere and the boy at the same time as Arthur. "How is he?" Senna and Arthur asked at the same time. "He burns. Brave boy." Dagonet murmured to the child. Arthur quickly shifted his interest to Guinevere, who was staring at him with a peculiar sort of intensity. Dismounting from his horse, he tied his reins to the wagon and moved up beside her. Gently he picked up her hand. At first Guinevere shrunk away, but after looking at him for another moment, she allowed him to pull her arm forward. Senna could tell from where she was, outside the wagon, that several of the Woad's fingers were out of their sockets. Arthur said the same. Senna cringed as he put them back into place. She knew well the pain.

Shifting her interest from the two, she asked Dagonet, "Do you know his name?" The man looked at her, "Lucan." He frowned, a sad expression falling over his stoic face, "His family is dead. He is alone." Senna tilted her head, one corner of her mouth quirking up, "Not now," Her voice was soft. "Now he has you. And the other knights. And me. And her," She nodded to Fulcinia, who was marching up to the wagon with a determined look on her face, ignoring her husbands shouts.

The older woman slipped into the wagon and knelt beside Arthur and Guinevere. "How are you?" She asked quietly. Guinevere looked at her and tried to smile, "I am better than I was." Fulcinia reached forward and brushed a strand of hair away from the other woman's face. Remembering her husband's accusations, Senna knew these two troubled women had formed an odd sort of friendship. Arthur and Dagonet had begun their own quiet conversation. Senna couldn't quite catch their words, but she got the feeling they were discussing the Saxon army that was following them. Suddenly feeling intrusive, she steered Dusk away, unsure of what to do with herself.

She wasn't really looking, and so when Dusk snorted and veered sharply, she half slipped off his back. "Watch where you are going," an angry voice growled. She looked at Lancelot. He was astride his dark war horse. The beast was baring his teeth at Dusk, replicating almost perfectly the expression Lancelot was aiming towards Senna. "Excuse me," She snapped at him. "At least I'm not the one who can't decide whether he loathes or lusts after the Woad princess!" His mouth dropped open slightly, and an expression of pure fury came over his face. _Oooh, bad thing to say, girl._ Quickly, almost frightened, Senna turned Dusk and cantered away from the train.

She knew she shouldn't have said that. But still…people who were rude just…bugged her. In her opinion Lancelot was almost being immature. But then again….in one moment Rome had taken away the future they had waved tantalizingly in his face for fifteen years. Rome had done that to all the knights. It was obvious she was Roman, and that would make them dislike her instantly. Still, that didn't give them cause to be downright foul in their manner. She was no ordinary Roman, and they would figure that out soon enough.

Slowing to a trot, she looked at the forest around her. Her gaze fell to a patch of ice on the snow-and-dirt covered ground. Something in the air around her snapped, and the patch of ice began turning red. Senna realized with horror that the red was blood. She watched, transfixed, as blood covered the patch of ice and oozed into the snow around it. "What…" She gasped. "Why are you out here?" The strange voice startled Senna enough for her to tear her gaze away from the vision. "Do you see…" She trailed off. Tristan was looking at her suspiciously. _What, does he think I'm waiting out here for the damn Saxons? _She asked herself bitterly. However, after a moment the scout rode on, without another word. Senna watched him go, then looked back at the ice. It gleamed crystal, the shine on it's surface almost seeming to mock her. Shaking her head, Senna turned and rode in the opposite direction from the Scout, back to the caravan.

They were making camp when she arrived. The horses were tied in a string, off to the side of the camp. Senna led Dusk to the end, and exchanged his leather bridle for the lightweight rope halter carried in her shoulder-bag. Having no saddle or pack to hold supplies, her shoulder bag was the only thing she could carry comfortably. She spotted Guinevere bathing in a wagon that was somewhat hidden from the camp. Lancelot, who had also just finished caring for his horse, saw the unclothed woman as well. Senna did not wait to see what would come of it. She simply walked away.

She wavered between going to the knights fire-circle, or one of the villagers. In the end, she would up walking up to the knights, but staying a few feet away, lingering behind a tent as she listened to them speak. "This is madness," Galahad was muttering, looking at the forlorn people who were milling about. "We are walking forward weakly, with an entire army on our heels, moving quicker than we ever could." He dropped his head, looking at the small metal cup he was holding, "Rome is stealing our lives away from us. We should be free men!" Bors, sitting across the fire, lifted his own head, "I swear to whatever Gods or Devils may exist, if that Bishop says another word about our fucking duty to Rome, I'll toss him off the wall with a dagger in his throat," For once his voice was quiet, and that fact alone made Senna realize he fully intended to carry out his threat, should the occasion arise. "We don't have a choice now. This truly will be our last mission. Arthur will see it so, I have no doubt. Let us get it over with without so much bickering." Gawain interjected with his opinion. "Indeed, that is so." Senna stepped forwards. The three knights turned towards her. Senna couldn't read their faces. "I wish only to sit at your fire, and perhaps learn a bit more about who you are." The men were silent. Then Dagonet, sitting a little ways away with a sleeping Lucan resting against him, spoke, "Sit." He said simply, but firmly. Smiling, Senna stepped into the light of the fire, and sat. These men had been a part of her dreams for so long. Now they were a part of her reality, whether they liked it or not.


	3. Chapter 3

**All right…This chapter ended on a deeper note than I intended…but it turns out I don't know my character's triggers as well as I thought. It's strange, but sometimes my characters dictate the flow of the story more than I do (and I'm the writer, isn't there something wrong here?!) I hope you like it! I just need one review to post my next chapter, which I am currently working on!**

**I figure this is as good a time as any to say—I may not follow the movie completely. For the purposes of my writing, I'm going to alter one or two scenes, or split some scenes up, to help keep the story flowing. I am slowly trying to add to each characters personality, without losing their innate character. It's tougher than I thought, so please have mercy…Enjoy!**

The men were surprisingly open about who they were. Senna suspected the liquor in their cups was aiding her cause.

Galahad especially was eager to speak about his home, almost irritatingly so. Bors didn't seem to care that much about going back to his Sarmatian village. He spoke of his lover, Vanora, and his children. He had either eleven or twelve. There seemed to be some small argument about that amongst the knights.

Gawain was the friendliest, though he also asked the sharpest questions of her. Senna tried to be as truthful as she could, and when he asked of her past, she took a moment to answer, "For the past four years, I've been living in various places. I've stayed relatively near to the village outside Marius's home, although I have never actually been there."

"How did you survive, then? Why were you not killed by Woads?" Once again it was Gawain. "I had a sort of...agreement...with them, I guess you could say. I left them alone, they left me alone."

"How did you know the one in the dungeon was a princess?" Senna jumped. Lancelot had walked up behind her, his voice falling directly into her ears. "I see them. I hear them. The Woads were far from shy in my presence. They simply didn't care. Besides, she isn't the kind of princess I suspect you are thinking of." Tilting her head back, she stared at the knight, trying to make her face expressionless. Much to her surprise, his face was clear of any anger. The cool, yet interested expression on his face made her feel even more ashamed of her earlier words.

Lancelot sat down beside her, surprising her even more. He grabbed an unused cup and poured himself a drink from the "water" skin the others had used to fill their own cups. Senna wrinkled her nose at the smell of the ale. Lancelot didn't miss her reaction, and he smirked. Senna ignored it.

She heard soft muttering and her eyes. Lucan was stirring fretfully, and Senna noticed beads of sweat forming on his forehead. She reached for her shoulder bag, then realized that she had left it with Dusk.

"Excuse me." She said, standing up. The men all looked slightly bewildered by her sudden movement, but she walked away without explaining. She had retrieved the bag and was half-way back to the campfire when she heard someone call firmly, "Lady,"

She turned. Arthur was walking towards her_. Oh, hell._ More explanations. "I've lived in the forest for four years. I don't care to state my past other than that, but as you have already noticed, yes, I am of Roman descent, but am I Roman at heart? No. Am I Christian? I don't know. I don't really care, actually. I'm not going to assassinate anyone while they sleep, and I am just as eager to leave these cursed Saxons behind as you are. There is a sick boy I need to tend, so if you have any other questions please ask them quickly."

She was slightly out of breath after she finished. Still, it should have been obvious she wasn't in the mood to chat. Arthur's eyebrows were raised as he looked at her, "I was coming to tell you, I noticed you had no grain for your horse. We have more than enough packed in the wagons, and you are welcome to borrow some on the journey." Senna blinked, "Oh."

How many times as a child had her father told her not to anticipate a situation, and overreact accordingly? Senna thought she had beaten the habit, but apparently not. "I'm...thank you." She muttered. He was staring at her as if he expected her to start shouting again any second.

Abruptly, the humor of the situation hit her. She snorted, then grinned. "I'm sorry," she told Arthur with a shake of her head, "I'm a little...paranoid...tonight." He smiled kindly at her, "Don't worry, we all are. But also, I do thank you for answering my unasked questions so...willingly." Senna laughed again, then made to turn away. "Your name is Senna?" He stopped her, and at her nod went on, "Senna—how is the boy?" She smiled gently at him, "He is still under the fevers grip, but he will live. As Sir Dagonet said, he is a brave boy."

When she arrived back at the fire, the knights were conversing quietly amongst themselves. She slipped past them with only a smile, and sat down beside Lucan and Dagonet. She pulled another packet of herbs from her the bag. "Here, this is the same I gave you earlier. They are bitter, but if he eats them, his fever will go."

The man took the herbs from her. Senna couldn't hear what he murmured to the child, but the boy swallowed the herbs without protest, then snuggled up to the knight, both of his thin arms circling one of Dagonet's. Senna had to smile at the sight. "You seem to like children." His pale blue eyes met hers, "They are so often innocent of the world's evil. I wish they could remain so."

A different answer than she had expected, but Senna understood what he was trying to say. His simple words brought up a world of memory for the young woman, and she couldn't help her bitter reply, "Well we all have to grow up sometime." She looked away.

_Senna heard hooves outside. Grinning, she leapt up, throwing the cloth she was stitching onto the ground, much to her maid's protests. "Papa!" She cried, running out the door. She stopped the moment her eyes spotted the horse. It was a broad, black mare, not her fathers lightly-built gray cavalry stallion. Aside from the horse, the first thing she noticed was her rider. He was an older man, his face set with lines and empty of emotion. Senna ran her eyes down his armor, looking for any identifying pendants. That was when she saw the body, hanging off either side of the saddle. "Papa! Father!" She was screaming now, her hands reaching out as she made to run forwards. "No!" Maria grabbed her shoulders, keeping her in place. Senna sobbed and fought her, but the maid's arms were strong from housework, and Senna couldn't free herself. "Let me help him!" She wailed. "You can't, sweetheart," Maria spoke gently, but Senna didn't hear her. Jonas, hearing all the commotion, came out of their small stable. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened in horror as he took in the situation, but he was a veteran, a foot soldier under her fathers command who had served long enough to retire from the army, but hadn't yet been willing to take up complete retirement, and so headed the stable. He walked forward calmly, speaking words to the expressionless man that Senna couldn't hear. Maria tugged her into the house, where she collapsed on the floor, racked with sobs that she could not control. Papa…My father…how can you leave me?_

_The next day, she was summoned to the General's quarters. Heartbroken and numb, she had no idea as she stepped out of her house that morning she would never see it again._

Something brushed against her face, jerking Senna out of her bitter reminiscence. Dagonet brushed another tear from her cheek, then drew back. He didn't say anything, he simply looked at her with a compassionate shimmer in his eyes, and Senna was glad.

She was glad that he understood some memories didn't need to be shared. That speaking them aloud wouldn't ease the pain.

That nothing would.


	4. Chapter 4

**I want to take a brief moment to thank my reviewers, Shadow's Interceptor and Nonnihil Scelestus. Your reviews mean a lot!**

**Not much to say about this chapter…except for again, it didn't turn out to be what I had planned. I wrote it rather quickly, so if there are any obvious mistakes that I missed, let me know *smile* I still like it, however, and I hope everyone else does as well!**

Without intending to, Senna fell asleep beside the knight and child. The day had wearied her both physically and emotionally, and the vision of blood she had seen earlier teased the edges of her mind, inviting her into slumber…into dreaming.

_She had dreamed this before…Yet even though Senna knew she was dreaming, she had as little control over the dream as she would if she were a part of it. The knights were at Hadrian's Wall, sitting at the round table, awaiting their freedom. The Bishop walked in. Senna glared at him, although she knew he couldn't see her._

"_You pathetic bastard," She murmured as he asked to talk to Arthur privately. "You're too afraid to say it with the rest of them there." As the knights filed out, the scene went black, and Senna felt the familiar falling sensation that always came in between her dreams. _

_Everything was foggy. This was a dream of what had not yet happened, then. The future was never as clear as the past. Through the fog, Senna could make out dim shapes moving, shouting. _

"_Prepare for combat!" She recognized the voice as Arthur's. "Dag!" Somebody screamed. The muffled cries went on. Senna heard the unmistakable sound of arrows slicing through the air. "Dag!" A feeling of dread swept over her. _

_She fought to move forward, to get a clearer view, but she was held in place, pinned by an invisible force. A crack split the air, echoing through the fog like thunder. "Dagonet!" Finally the voice was clearer, and she recognized it as Bors. "Stay with me! Dagonet!" He repeated his plea. Without her willing it to, Senna's hands rose to cover her mouth. What had happened? Where was Dagonet? _

_She felt herself falling. "No!" She cried out in the darkness, fighting to stay in the vision, to see what had happened. It was useless; she fell down into the darkness, this time one without dreams. Simply a pool of slumbering shadow._

The next morning, her brain felt as thick and foggy as her dream. After learning that Lucan's fever had broken during the night and he was recovering quickly, she left the encampment with Dusk, hoping a ride would clear her head.

She didn't go far. When she heard the calls and noises as the caravan started to move out, she rode back, feeling restless and jittery. Her dream last night was fading already. She knew, somehow, that it had been very important. Still, no matter how hard she struggled to keep it in her memory, it faded away from her grasping thoughts, and Senna was left only with a feeling of dread. Of a knowledge that something was not right.

When she reached the caravan she found herself seeking out Dagonet, needing to see him safe and sound, for some reason. He still rode with the sick. Senna tied Dusk to the slow-moving wagon, and saw that an old man had been moved next to Guinevere and Lucan.

"Who is he?" She asked, nodding towards the old man.

"He was beaten by the guards before we arrived at the Roman's home. The journey has made him very ill." Senna looked at the old man. She heard in the knight's voice what she could see with her own eyes. The man was dying.

The fact gave rise to her ever-quick temper, honed sharp now by fear and sorrow. "I was Roman." She said softly. "I suppose most would say I still am…but seeing this, being here." She gestured around them, "Knowing the things I…know…" She shook her head, "I feel nothing but shame for my heritage. For the things they do in the name of God."

She lifted her eyes, "I believe in God. I've seen too much not to. But the things men do, using his name to wield their power for their own satisfaction…" She shook her head, "I wish I did not."

She half-expected him to retreat from her, after the small tirade, but he didn't. He just gave her a small smile, then leaned over the old man, who was coughing. Senna remained quiet as well, trying to bring her rampaging thoughts into order.

They were brought food a little after mid-day. It was meager fair. A bit of salted meat, smaller than Senna's fist and a chunk of brick-hard bread that was burned on the edges. The two rabbits caught that morning were split between the Roman family and the sick or very young.

Even after his small portion of the rabbit meat, Senna saw hunger in Lucan's eyes. She looked at the unappealing food on her plate. Even with hunger knowing her stomach, it wasn't a very inviting dish. Picking up the bit of dry meat, she held it out to him. He snatched it from her and jerked it up to his mouth.

Senna frowned as he abruptly stopped and stared at her. She felt her eyes widen as Lucan's filled with tears. He took the pathetic piece of food and tore it in half, offering one piece of it back to her.

The sweet, generous gesture from a boy who had seen so much cruelty brought tears to Senna's eyes as well. She took the meat from the boy's hand and set it on her plate, unable to refuse when it had clearly cost him so much to offer. She split her bread with him as well.

After he finished eating, Lucan fell asleep again. In slumber his face was clear of the shadows that crawled over him other times. She reached out to stroke his soft brown hair, then retreated to a corner of the wagon, hoping to find a moment of respite herself.

She had just closed her eyes when she sensed a movement in front of her, and heard a mumble. She blinked. A large, scarred hand was holding out a piece of meat. Senna's nose told her it was fresh, and probably squirrel. "What?" She asked, blinking up at Dagonet.

"A baby couldn't survive on what you ate. Take this. Your help and company are appreciated here. If you fall ill, you'll be a burden."

Looking at the knight's face, she almost got the feeling he was embarrassed by his action. Reaching forward, she had to stop herself from snatching the food from him as quickly as Lucan had snatched the food from her. "Thank you." Although she'd been ignoring it, her stomach felt as if it were ripping itself apart in hunger.

After she'd finished, Dagonet handed her a blanket, this time without saying anything. Senna took it with a smile, then resumed her position in the corner of the wagon. Her pangs of hunger somewhat mollified, Senna found herself drifting into a light nap.


	5. Chapter 5

**This chapter had me struggling, I admit it. I just couldn't figure out how to finish it…hope the result is all right. Nothing fancy, and really fairly light through most of it.**

**About Senna's Dreams: Senna dreams of the future, the past, and the present. She can have the same dream numerous times. Some dreams she remembers, some she forgets. She also has "normal" meaningless dreams like everyone else….I've realized that I hadn't made that clear in the story(thanks cleo nightingale) so I just put in into my A/N…they're useful little things aren't they? Well, I hope everyone enjoys, and I wouldn't mind another review at all :P**

By the time Senna awoke, it was growing dark. She frowned--she hadn't intended to sleep so long. Still, her dreams had left her exhausted, so perhaps the extra sleep had been something she needed.

She was alone in the cart with Lucan and Guinevere. Dagonet was missing, and so, Senna noticed, was the old man. She sighed, and hit her fist against the cart's bars. Pointless death always left her with a bitter taste. As her remaining companions were still sleeping, Senna sat silently and watched the trees pass by slowly.

Sometime later a voice shook her from her daydreaming. "I know you," Senna turned her head to look at Guinevere, who was staring at her with a frown.

_You're just now realizing this?_ Senna resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"You are the girl who always crashes around the forest on the golden horse."

"Excuse me!" Senna was slightly affronted, "I don't _crash_."

"Any of my people can hear you coming from a mile away," Guinevere told her with a smile. Senna opened her mouth to bite out a reply, but then she realized the other woman's smile wasn't scornful, it simply held amusement. She sighed.

"And I thought I had adjusted so well." She smiled at the Woad. "I guess I should thank you for putting up with me, then."

Guinevere laughed. "You were amusing, for a while. Eventually though I started liking you. You're stubborn, and you talk to yourself and your horse often. It was entertainment in my otherwise solemn world, and I was appreciative of it."

"Well—" Senna broke off. She wasn't sure how to reply. It bothered her, that she had been the subject of so much hilarity without knowing it. Yet at the same time she found she was rather flattered that the Woads had taken any notice of her at all, even if it was to laugh at her.

She didn't have a chance to think up a reply. Hoof beats sounded next to the wagon, interrupting their conversation. It was Arthur. Senna wasn't sure if she was relieved or annoyed by the intrusion.

For a moment there was silence, then Guinevere spoke.

"My father told me great tales of you," Her voice was wistful.

"Really? And what did you hear?" If Senna hadn't thought better of the knight commander, she would have thought his voice mocking.

"Fairy tales. The kind you hear about people so brave, so selfless, that they can't be real. Arthur and his knights, a leader both Briton and Roman." Guinevere's voice turned puzzled. "And yet you chose your allegiance to Rome. To those who take what do not belong to them. That same Rome that took your men from their homeland"

Senna raised her eyebrows. The Woad's voice had turned entirely cold on the last two sentences. Senna couldn't say she blamed her. She had to agree, for the most part.

"Listen, Lady, do not pretend you know anything about me or my men." Arthur was angry.

"How many Britons have you killed?" Guinevere challenged.

Senna didn't wait to hear Arthur's reply. Not caring to get caught between the two, she stood up as best she could, and lurched towards Dusk, still tied to the wagon. She undid his reins and jumped onto his back.

Looking ahead, she spotted Gawain and Galahad, riding side by side, holding what seemed to be a rather animated conversation, if one were to go by Galahad's wild gestures. Giving a laugh and shaking her head, Senna trotted towards them.

"—wasn't blushing!" Galahad was exclaiming as Senna pulled up beside him. "I've tupped dozens of tavern girls before!"

Senna couldn't help but giggle. Galahad whipped around to stare at her. Senna laughed harder as she noticed the red flags staining his cheeks.

"Dozens?" She managed to choke out, raising her eyebrows.

"He means two, three at the most, I think," Gawain was grinning. "I think dozens would be a more fitting term to apply to Lancelot."

"Isn't that the truth," Galahad muttered. He sounded both jealous and derisive.

Abruptly the two men realized the gender of their visitor. They both reddened for a moment, glancing at her.

Noticing their gazes, Senna grinned at them. "'Tis nothing I've not heard before," she said lightly, "don't let my presence put a restrain on your words."

"We were simply discussing the time we've spent at Hadrian's Wall, lady. " Galahad spoke firmly, with a glance towards the other knight that Senna interpreted as an order that he was not to elaborate.

"Interesting times, I would guess?" A sudden gust of wind whipped at Senna's body. Her brown eyes squinted against the gale. "Probably a bit milder in atmosphere as well."

"Most certainly." The knight's faces had lost some of their humor. Gawain's voice was rather solemn, "For a Roman establishment, it does have it's charms."

"Aye, Bors certainly speaks as if he wouldn't mind settling there." Another twist of wind blew around them. It was only then that Senna noticed the snow beginning to fall around them. She looked up at the sky, then gave a soft curse. "It's going to storm."

"Badly, I'd say," Gawain didn't follow her glance, and Senna realized he'd already noticed.

As if given some sort of cue, Arthur rode up. "We'll push on as far as we can, but the storm will eventually force us to make camp. Keep your eyes open for a safe area." The Sarmatians nodded, and Arthur wheeled his horse around. Going to give the same message to those at the end of the caravan, no doubt.

Senna rode with the two knights until the storm grew to strong for them to push on. Once Arthur announced they were stopping to camp, she turned Dusk and rode back to the healer's wagon. Dagonet was lounging comfortably, talking quietly to Lucan. Guinevere's face was silent and stony. Senna assumed her discussion with Arthur hadn't gone well.

She followed her now familiar routine of tying Dusk to the wagon and slipped inside. The knight and the boy smiled at her. Senna found her eyes lingering on the knight's face for a moment. _He should smile more often…_the thought surfaced in the dim corners of her mind. Senna shook it back.

"How are you?" She asked them quietly.

"Well," Dagonet murmured back. His voice had an undertone that was almost cheerful. He patted Lucan on the back, then rose. "I should go help set up the camp. You'll stay here?"

Senna nodded, "Of course."

The knight slipped out the back of the wagon, moving lightly for such a large man. He patted Senna's back as well as he moved past her. Senna thought his hand lingered for just a moment, but before she could really digest the fact, he was gone, disappearing into the white flurry.

Senna shivered, bits of her foggy dream rising for a moment. For a moment she wanted to chase after Dagonet, to warn him…_of what?_ Her mind asked her sharply,_ are you going to just trot up to him and say, oh, hey Sir Dagonet, something bad is going to happen to you, because I had a nightmare about it. I have no clue what it is though. That'll go over very well, I'm sure._

Pushing down her thoughts, she turned towards Lucan. "D'you know how to play knucklebones?"

He nodded. Senna reached into her satchel and pulled out a small rabbit-hide pouch. "Bet you I can play better."

Lucan grinned.


	6. Chapter 6

Things in the camp that night went much as they had the evening before. Senna settled next to Dagonet at the fire, and Lucan sat beside her, resting his head on her shoulder.

Senna smiled. His big eyes and childish face hid a sharp mind and quick reflexes. Had they been betting on their earlier game, Senna would be a poor woman. Now, though, his face was sleepy as he stared at the fire, it's flames weak and trembling from the harsh wind.

Bors, who had disappeared earlier, too impatient to wait for dinner, was returning. In his hands he held two plates, piled high with food. Senna wondered where it had come from.

Before she could ask, though, Bors grunted, "Tristan shot a deer,"

"A deer in this weather? The man's a wizard." Galahad muttered.

"The powers of darkness, eh?" Bors chuckled.

All the knights smiled. Senna gave a small shiver. They spoke so lightly of things they really knew nothing about. Thank goodness, Tristan didn't really have the power they were speaking of. He upset her enough being his normal…creepy self.

_Oh, hush. It's not like he's done anything to you_, she scolded herself. _Oh, but he acts as if he'd _like_ to,_ the paranoid part of her mind whispered. She shook it off, then felt her eyes widen in dismay.

Said knight was at this moment settling across the fire from her. Senna felt the sudden urge to shrink into Dagonet. Seeing as he was a good foot and a half away from her, this wasn't possible. That was probably a good thing in the long run.

"Are we going to eat the food, or merely use as a subject for conversation?" Lancelot asked, the smirk Senna was beginning to think his trademark had set itself on his face.

Bors settled on the other side of Dagonet, and handed him a plate, "Pass it 'round, then."

"What're you doing with the other one?" Gawain asked.

"I'm gonna eat it," Bors said, as if it were obvious.

"That looks like half the damn deer!" Galahad exclaimed.

"I think 'tis," Bors said, looking at the dish cheerfully.

A hand reached out and snatched a rather large chunk of venison off the plate.

"Tristan!" Bors voice came perilously close to a roar.

"Eh, you want to be possessive? I'm the one that killed it." He bit into the meat.

Senna lifted her eyebrows as Bors settled down, a glower on his face. Apparently even he didn't care to upset the other knight. If such a thing were possible. Tristan seemed cold to Senna, colder than the storm that was currently whipping at their faces, despite the skins set up to block it. He hadn't spoken to her since their run-in just after her vision. She was glad for that.

"One shouldn't underestimate small mercies." She muttered to herself.

Dagonet glanced at her, but didn't say anything. He passed the venison around to the other knights, Senna, and Lucan. He skipped over Tristan, who seemed content with the piece he had stolen from Bors.

The rest of the meal was uneventful, and it wasn't long before they began to roll out their blankets, and set out extra hides. Senna started to lay her hide out beside Dagonet's, but then changed her mind, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Here, Lucan, set your blankets between mine and Dagonet's. You'll be warmer that way."

God help her, she thought she was actually blushing. She had practically slept on the man's lap the night before, and now she was unsettled by the idea of simply lying two feet away from him.

_Oh, aye_, unsettled_…I'm sure that's the word you're looking for_, a sardonic voice in her mind whispered.  
She rolled her eyes as she helped Lucan settle down. She was about to do the same when her gaze caught on a figure settling down several yards away from any fire. Although she could not see his face, she knew it was Arthur.

"I'll be a moment," She murmured to the boy and the knight, and then strode over to the Roman.

"Why do you sleep by yourself?" She asked bluntly.

He stared at her for a moment, his face impassive. The he sighed. "Many reasons. Some I doubt I could even put into words."

"Ah," Senna crouched down. "Reason…often a useful thing, but sometimes…not so much." She smiled gently, "You fear you have pushed your knights too far in this venture, do you not?"

"I had no choice!" She jumped, surprised at his emphatic answer, "Rome governs me, much more harshly than I govern my knights."

"I was not challenging you, Sir," Senna muttered, "I was trying to say I believe I understand some of your reasons. I've never been in a position of authority, but I've known others who were, and seen the harm that comes to them when they dwelled too long on a decision they were forced to make."

_Oh, father…why does your face turn up in my memory nearly every time I speak?_ Senna lifted her eyes to the trees above them. Though the wind whipped their branches about they still provided a decent cover from the full brunt of the storm.

"Sometimes a man cannot help it," Senna brought her gaze back down, meeting the Commander's eyes.

"I know," She touched his shoulder softly; "I do not envy you, that is certain." Sighing, she slumped down, leaning against the tree. Arthur did not reply, and Senna did not speak again. A few minutes later Senna peeked over at him and saw he was asleep. Senna gave him a small, sympathetic smile, then got up and crept back to the fire. Everyone else looked to be asleep—also Lancelot was conspicuously missing, she noticed. Oh well. She didn't care. She didn't immediately lie on her pallet, however. Despite the advice she had given to Arthur, Senna found herself dwelling on her own decisions…and other things.

She was supposed to be here with the knights, she did not doubt that at all. Still, perhaps she wasn't going about this the right way. She still had no clue why she was here, and the sense of dread she had woken up with was growing steadily. Something very wrong was going to happen, but Senna hadn't the smallest idea what it was, or how to stop it. It had something to do with Dagonet, and that upset Senna…to be honest, it upset her more than it should have.

She cared for him more than any of the other knights. Why, she couldn't really say, other than the fact that he seemed kind, even gentle, in a strong, warrior-like way. Senna blinked, and realized she was smiling into the night. She let out a frustrated sound. It certainly wasn't something she needed to dwell on.

A few feet away, beyond the light of the fire, Senna heard the sound of footsteps. She stood and went to move to her pallet, thinking it was Lancelot. She wasn't in the mood to speak to anybody at the moment, especially him. But a piece of pale, flowing cloth caught her eye, and she turned back.

"Guinevere," She murmured. The other woman paused.

"Senna," Guinevere didn't look startled, or even bothered by Senna's interruption of her walk. Where exactly had she been walking, anyway?

"What are you doing?" Perhaps she was being a bit blunt, but what did it matter?

"I need to speak with Arthur. Alone, without anyone else around."

_Oh…_Senna blinked_. Huh, the girl certainly isn't a slow mover._ Aloud, she simply smiled and said, "Ah, well…have fun then."

Guinevere gave her an inscrutable look, then continued to stroll over to Arthur. A moment later, they both walked into the trees. Apparently Arthur wasn't a slow mover either.

"It doesn't matter to you, just go to bed," She muttered to herself. It really was a bad habit, the whole talking-to-herself-constantly thing. It was a habit she'd picked up from spending so much time alone, and not really something she could control.

As she lay on her pallet, she saw Lancelot on the opposite side of the fire, staring into the trees. _Oopsie…I'm guessing somebody's not happy. _Not something she felt like attempting to handle at the moment. She forced herself to close her eyes, and fell asleep a mere second later.

* * *

**So...? Was this chapter so awful it forced readers to down copious amounts of alchohal in order to wipe it from their memory? Was it so wonderful you had a glass of champagne to celebrate?**

**Only one way I'll ever know. See that little button below? Please? Pretty please? I'll tell the bartender to pass around whatever you like :D**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: This chapter is probably the turning point in the story. It does contain a character death...(well...maybe), and I am sorry for it. I can honestly say that I didn't want to write the story this way(possibly), but this is the way I had it plotted out from the beginning, and so the ending depends on it. The ending is happy, I promise…besides, every story needs a little (potential) heartbreak to really stay in your mind(at least I'm telling myself that). Despite the (apparent) sadness, I hope you enjoy!**

Senna woke to the sound of screams. Without having to open her eyes, she sensed that Dagonet and Lucan were not beside her. The sounds of some sort of brawl were unmistakable. She peeked open her eyes and froze in horror.

Marius was holding a knife to Lucan's throat, and glaring at Dagonet, who was a few feet away surrounded by Roman guards, glaring pure murder at the cruel Roman, but frozen in fear for the boy.

"I have the boy. Kill him!" Marius ordered.

Fulcinia leapt forward, "No, don't! Let him go!"

"Kill him now!" Marius roared, his face turning purple.

Senna leapt up, not sure what she was going to do, but intending to do _something_. Before she could make another move, however, she heard the unmistakable _thwack_ of a bowstring, and a millisecond later and large, Woad-made arrow was protruding from Marius's chest, the tip buried in his heart.

Dagonet shoved away the guards, "Down! Ha!" He growled.

After that everyone seemed to arrive at the same time. Gawain and Galahad cantered up, weapons drawn as they backed up Dagonet. Bors rode up to do the same, loud as usual. Guinevere and Arthur strode out of the trees, Guinevere with a bow in her hand.

Lancelot, who had appeared without Senna noticing, smirked at Guinevere, "Your hands seem to be better." He murmured.

Arthur approached the Roman soldiers, Excalibur in his hand. He stared coldly at the men. "You have a choice." He told them, "You help, or you die. Put down your weapons"

Slowly, the men dropped their weapons, those who were reluctant receiving encouragement from their more survival-oriented comrades.

The sound of rapid hoofbeats made Senna look away. Tristan slowed his horse's gallop to a trot only a few feet away from the campsite.

"How many'd you kill?" Bors asked eagerly.

"Four," The scout replied curtly.

"Not a bad start to the day," Bors laughed.

The dark man tossed an arrow at Arthur's feet. "Armor piercing. They're close. We have no time." His voice was emotionless. Senna shuddered. She knew what the Saxons would do if they managed to capture their pitiful band of villagers and Romans.

So did Arthur. His features hardened. "You ride ahead." He ordered. Tristan and his horse galloped away without a word.

Dagonet, his hand on Lucan's back, moved towards Senna to start packing up the supplies. Briefly, Senna moved her hand so that it rested on top of his. The knight paused and tilted his head, a question in his eyes. Senna smiled and gave his hand a light squeeze, and then began rolling up her pallet as she switched her attention to Lucan.

"You silly boy," she scolded gently, "You should've been more careful."

She knew it wasn't Lucan she was scolding. Dagonet knew it too, but he only grunted as he lifted all three of their pallets and began toting them over to the wagon. Lucan stared at her, his dark eyes still slightly wide. Senna sighed, then shifted, holding out her arms. Lucan cuddled against her for a brief moment, but when Dagonet returned, he pulled away with a huff. Senna smiled. _Boys._

"Is there any other way?" Arthur asked.

Senna stared at the expanse of white before them. The ice seemed to go on forever, in her mind. As she stared, the memory of the sliver of blood-covered ice she had seen in the forest flew into her mind. _No. No, no no. That can't be this. But what else could it mean? What am I supposed to do? _Thoughts and questions raced through her mind, the most important falling last. _Whose blood would cover the ice today?_ Darkness started to cover her vision, and Senna swayed at images flew through her mind.

"Dagonet!" It was her dream. The dream Senna suddenly remembered in perfect detail. Now, however, the fog cleared, and Senna made out Bors kneeling over his brother. His fallen brother. Senna gasped, and a small cry escaped her lips. She felt her knees give, but she couldn't prepare herself from the force of hitting the ground. But before her head reached the earth, someone caught her, gripping her arms tightly. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her hazy vision.

Her eyes finally focused on her "rescuer". Tristan peered down on her, a look of calculation on his face. Senna jerked away, and he let her go easily.

"Thank you." She muttered to him.

He simply stared at her. After what seemed an agonizingly long time—though she knew in reality it was less than a minute—he turned away.

Villagers and Romans were walking over the ice, their steps short and their bodies tense, fearful that the ice would break and drown them all. The wagon horses held their heads high, prancing and snorting as their keepers led them across the ice. The Knight's horses were as cool as their masters, crossing the ice cautiously, but at a steady pace. The procession was almost half-way across the ice when Senna heard them. _Drums_. She didn't need to look around her to know that the others heard as well. Gasps and cries of dismay echoed in the sudden, grim silence that came over the majority of the group. Senna gritted her teeth. The echoes of Tristan's statement rang through her mind. There was no time.

No time.

Arthur and his knights had stopped as well. "Knights…" The commander said the word with a question in his voice.

"Well, I'm tired of runnin'. And these Saxons are so close behind, me arse is hurtin'" Bors declared.

"Never liked looking over my shoulder anyway," Tristan said quietly.

"Be a pleasure to put an end to this racket," Gawain looked at Arthur steadily.

"And finally get a look at the bastards," A bitter smile twisted Galahad's face.

Lancelot said nothing, he simply looked at Arthur and nodded.

Dagonet cast a glance at Senna, a hint of sadness shifting over his features before he turned to Arthur. "Here. Now."

Senna bit back a cry of protest. She knew as well as any of them…here and now was the only chance they had.

"Jols!" Arthur called. The squire came jogging up. His face was as grim as the warriors. _How many times has he done this before?_ Senna wondered. The man competently managed the people around him. He had two of the Romans lead the knights mounts away, then cast a bleak look at the small group of Sarmatian men, before he followed them.

Arthur gave orders to one of the villagers. Although Senna couldn't hear what was said, she could tell from the young man's expression that he was unhappy with whatever Arthur was telling him. In the end, though, he nodded and walked away, calling for the stragglers to hurry. Guinevere stayed, and so did Senna. She walked over to them as they formed a line on the edge of the ice.

"Can you fight?" Arthur asked her.

"Yes," Senna said, then flushed. "Well, I can if I have something to fight with."

Without a word, Dagonet handed her some sort of shortened spear, with an ax-like head. Before he relinquished his hold on the weapon, he caught her gaze with his own. "I wish you would not." His voice was so quiet Senna doubted the others heard it. Senna gave him a sad smile.

"I can do nothing else." It was true. The thought of leaving them—him— alone ripped a hole in her chest. Besides, her vision lingered the back of her mind, forcing her to stay, to take some sort of action against a terror she was not even aware of yet. The large knight released the weapon, and Senna sighed as she turned to gaze across the ice.

"You look frightened. There's a large number of lonely men out there." Lancelot, at the other end of the line, muttered to Guinevere. The Woad woman shot Senna glance before she lifted her eyes to the knight's face. A small smirk lifted her lips.

"Don't worry, I won't let them rape you."

Senna snorted, unable, and unwilling, to stop herself. She exchanged another glance with the other woman. Something in the Woad's gaze made the back of Senna's neck tingle. She was beginning to get the feeling Guinevere knew there was something different about her. Considering that the woman's own father was a wizard, it was a likely suspicion At that moment, however, the sudden power of the Saxon drums interrupted Senna's speculation. She stared at the army across the ice, fighting horror. She had told Arthur the truth. She knew how to fight. She just hadn't clarified that 99 percent of her fighting had been in a training yard. With her father. When she was ten. She shuddered.

The Saxons fired two arrows. Senna watched them in their flight. They landed far short, and the clack they made as the hit the ice made Senna's nerves jump. She set her jaw. If she wanted to survive, she needed to get herself under control.

No more arrows came, and the Saxon army milled about aimlessly for a few moments.

"I believe they're waiting for an invitation," Arthur said, "Bors, Tristan."

The men drew back their bows.

"They're far out of range." Guinevere frowned at him, surprise in her eyes. Senna agreed with her.

Arthur ignored her. "Aim for the wings of the ranks, make them cluster."

Senna gaped as the knights arrows met their targets, felling both the men they touched. As if it were some sort of trigger, the Saxons began marching forward, appearing all the more massive. Senna tightened her grip on her weapon, as Bors, Tristan, and finally Guinevere began firing arrows. Senna begged the ice to break.

It didn't.

The Saxons grew closer, and Senna forced herself to face the reality that she was indeed going to fight these men. She inhaled, and lifted her chin. Perhaps if she gave the appearance of courage and defiance, she would feel it as well.

Her movement caused Dagonet to look down at her. Senna met his gaze, and the emotion in them caught her eyes so that she couldn't look away. He reached out and cupped one side of her face in his hand for an infinitely sweet moment, the pulled away.

The black hole of warning in Senna's heart began screaming.

Dagonet gave a wild yell, then lifted his ax and charged forward. Senna screamed.

"Dag!" Bors yelled.

Senna dropped her weapon and tried to rush forward. Guinevere, who had somehow come behind her without her realizing it, grabbed her arm. Senna tried to jerk away, but she couldn't break the other woman's iron grip. Dagonet began slamming the ax into the ice, repeating the move over and over.

She saw the Saxon archers take aim. "No!" she cried.

"Cover him!" Arthur yelled.

Arrows began flying from both sides, but Senna didn't notice. She only saw when the first huge, black arrow hit Dagonet's chest. Then another. He didn't stop, he only continued beating at the ice. Then a huge crack split the air, reaching through the horror that had muted the world. Faster than Senna could follow it, a line split the ice, racing towards the Saxon army. The men began away, trying to get away before the ice beneath their feet gave way. Bors and Arthur had reached Dagonet and were pulling him back. Senna could see their mouths moving, but still she could hear nothing. She could only stare, immobile as Bors bent over her brother. Beneath Dagonet's body, she saw blood staining the ice.

**Well…what did you think? I would love a few reviews, just to reassure my Writer's sensibilities(AKA—know that people are actually still reading this). **


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry for the extremely long period with no updates! To be honest, I was pretty sure I'd quit this story, then the other day I was re-reading it, and the reviews I'd been given, and was re-inspired! I'm happy with the way this chapter turned out, hope everyone else is as well! P.S…I won't post another chapter until I get three reviews…so my wonderful, favored readers, review away!**

"_Stay with me," the voice cried._

"Dagonet, stay with me!" Bors begged

This time, it wasn't in a vision. Bors was right in front of her as he yelled, and Dagonet's blood turned the snow into ruby crystals.

Senna felt frozen, she heard herself breathing in sharp gasps, felt her lips trembling, felt her eyes welling up with tears, and yet she could not move a single muscle in her body.

_No…_She stared. Arthur placed his hands at Dagonet's neck, and his ear at his heart. He clenched his jaw.

"He's gone, Bors."

Bors shoved Arthur away, sending the smaller man rolling away until he caught himself against a chunk of ice, then knelt, staring with eyes dry of tears, but holding grief in every other way.

_No…no, no, no, "_No!" Senna finally felt herself come unfrozen as the word left her mouth, she ran forward, breaking Guinevere's grip so sharply, the woman hissed and rubbed her wrist. It seemed to the Woad that Senna moved to Dagonet's side with almost with supernatural speed. When her knees hit the snow beside his body, it pooled into steaming water.

Bors moved to shove her away as well, but found his hand could not move within inches of the girl. Her blonde hair shifted in an invisible breeze as she set her hands against the fallen knight's chest. The ice on Dagonet's shirt melted, and the cloth began to smoke, as Senna's hand rested against it.

Bors, moved by pure, primal instinct that told him to move away from this strange phenomenon, pushed himself a few feet away. "Bloody…" He whispered, the curse drifting off at the end.

Senna wasn't entirely away of what she was doing. Her hands felt as if they were on fire, an excruciating kind of pain she had never felt before. The cloth on Dagonet's chest smoked and curled, turning black as it revealed his bloody chest.

Senna saw the ugly black arrows sticking out of the tattered flesh. She hissed, a long, drawn-out sound that sounded more like the cry of some strange bird than that of a human being. The arrows seemed to dissolve, turning first to dust, then to nothing, as if months of decay had passed by in a single second.

Beneath her hands, red lines spread across Dagonet's chest, towards the now empty wounds. When they reached them, the holes began to close, slowly, healing first from the inside, then finally out to the skin, leaving only white scars.

Senna choked as a sudden burst of pain flew from her heart, through her hand, and into Dagonet's body. The world went dark at the edges of her eyes, but before she completely lost consciousness, she felt something beneath her burning hands.

A heartbeat.

* * *

Senna regained her consciousness slowly, and spottily.

"I don't want to sit by her!" A voice pitched high with fear whispered sharply. Senna couldn't tell who it was…

"How is she doing?" Deep voice, this time. What time? Arthur…

"—never seen anything like it. 'Tis witchcraft…" "Aye, it is. It's witchcraft that saved my brother's life. I don't like it, but I damn well won't wish it away, and neither should you."

Senna blinked, "Not…" She whispered feebly. Not witchcraft. Dark, hazy forms stirred in the air above her, faces floating on undefined bodies, as she drifted away once again…

"—Wake up now, or you're going to bloody starve to death!" The female voice hit Senna's ears harshly, and she flinched. She heard a sigh above her.

"Thank any Gods that may be. Senna, open your eyes, I know you're awake." Guinevere spoke firmly. Reluctantly, Senna complied. The light was dim, either dawn or dusk. Senna felt no sense of direction, so she could not guess which. She opened her mouth to ask, but Guinevere halted her.

"No, before you talk, you eat. Open your mouth again."

Once more, Senna complied, her mind still to foggy to really grasp what was happening around her. She felt a spoonful of warm broth spill into her mouth, she swallowed, then immediately began gagging. She leaned over the side of the bed and heaved several times, before pulling herself back up and glaring balefully at the other woman.

"Oops, sorry, I forgot the tea first, here, try this." This time a warm mug was pressed against her lips. Despite Senna's reluctance to try anything else, her body reacted to the liquid it had been craving, and her mouth opened. This time, her stomach did not reject it's contents.

"Sorry about that, it's been a long time since I've done this."

"Done what?" Senna's voice was hoarse.

"Tended a person who performed more magic than their body could accept. Unfortunately it's something my father practices regularly, so I have more experience in the nursing area than I would like."

"And here I thought—" Senna broke off as Guinevere pressed the mug against her lips again. The drink smelled awful, Senna was glad her taste buds didn't seem to be working just yet. "I thought everyone might've just dumped me by the ice and left my body for the Saxons."

"You know Arthur better than that." Guinevere muttered, but she didn't meet Senna's eyes.

"Aye, I know Arthur. I also know the superstitions of Sarmatians and Romans, be they warriors or civilians."

"The knights are…a bit apprehensive…some more than others. Bors has been to check on you several times. I think he'll forgive you anything for the favor you did him."

Senna blinked, "Favor?" She asked in confusion.

_Guinevere's reply was lost as Senna sank back into darkness, but this time the dark was not steady, it wavered and blinked. Senna got the impression a vision was trying to form, but it couldn't gather enough power to do so._

_A broken form slowly grew in front of her, shadows in the vision never letting the man become whole. He was reclining against blankets, his eyes slightly open as he looked around him. Senna cried out:_

"_Dagonet!" The man sat up sharply, then groaned and fell back. Senna was pulled back into darkness._

Abruptly Senna was jerked back into consciousness. Guinevere was bent over her with a worried expression, and it was only the Woad woman's sharp reflexes that allowed her to move her face away fast enough that Senna didn't hit her as she sat up.

"Where's Dagonet?" Senna snapped. She tried to push herself off of the pallet she was lying on, but her limbs wouldn't obey her. Gravity slowly pulled her body back against the pallet, until she was lying flat again.

Guinevere knelt by the pallet, "Calm down. Dagonet's alive. Try not to let yourself have any more visions; your magic is too depleted."

"My magic doesn't get depleted," Senna protested.

"Oh, aye, of course it doesn't. That's why you've been unconscious for the past three days. Your magic is invincible, that's why you're lying here now, weak as a kitten." Guinevere ended the sentence with a snort.

Senna groaned and closed her eyes, "Fine. Just shut up. Where's Dagonet?"

"He's in another room, resting."

"Room?"

"Yes, another room, we're back at Hadrian's Wall, we just got back this morning. It's dusk now, it will be night within the hour."

"Christ." Senna groaned. "Where's the bloody bishop?"

"He's packing his things. The knights received their papers when they arrived. You'll be pleased to hear Dagonet was able to stand and receive his on his own. Although honestly, I wasn't very keen on the idea. Not for Dagonet's sake, but for the bishop's…I've never seen Dagonet look at someone with so much hatred. "

Senna twitched as a thought muttered, unprovoked, _God, I hope he doesn't start looking at me that way…_

She sighed shakily, then took a deep breath. Better to get it over with now.

"Guinevere, can you please go see if he's sleeping? If he isn't…can you ask him to come here?"

Guinevere looked deeply into the exhausted woman's eyes. She let out a sigh of her own.

"I don't think you have much to worry about with him, Senna. He is wary of what happened it is true. You must understand the enormity of what you did. It surprised even me."

Senna broke the eye contact, looking down at her hands resting on the blankets. They were thickly bandaged. She felt them stinging. The memory of the terrible burning sensation she'd felt was still vivid in her mind.

"Yes."

Guinevere stood, "But on top of that, you saved his life, and that is a debt that in itself alone conquers many barriers. Add that to the fact that the man's in love with you…"

Senna jumped, "Hush!" The word came out reflexively.

Guinevere let out a small laugh, "Come now, you're not the only one allowed to say shocking things."

Senna waved her hand. Weakly. _Ugh_.

"Go, just go."

With a broad smile, the Woad woman went.


	9. Chapter 9

As the door closed behind Guinevere, Senna was suddenly struck with a burst of apprehension. Perhaps this wasn't the best time to talk to Dagonet after all. "Guinevere!" She called out. Her voice was louder than a whisper, but certainly not strong enough for the princess to hear. She moaned and laid one of her arms over her eyes.

The thought crossed her mind that she probably looked awful. She wished she could at least glance in a mirror, but considering she couldn't even push herself into a sitting position, she doubted that was going to happen. Idly she wondered where Dusk was. She wasn't too worried; the young stallion knew how to care for himself.

Five minutes passed, then ten. Senna started to fidget, wondering if Guinevere had completely forgotten, or if there was some kind of complication. Finally she couldn't stand it any more. _I have to see what is happening…_she pushed herself up, with all her strength, using the pillows behind her to help prop her into a sitting position. Scoot an inch, use an elbow to push a pillow…it wasn't working very well, so she tried a new tactic.

Lifting her hand to the table beside the pallet, she tried to pull herself up, and cried out. She'd forgotten about her hands. The pain sent her collapsing into a slumped position back onto the pallet. She clutched her hand to her body.

"Damn it!" What the hell had she done to herself?

"You tried to get up! I swear, you're worse than my father!" Guinevere strode into the room.

Alone.

"He wouldn't come." Senna sighed heavily. "Funny. I honestly thought he would."

Guinevere cleared her throat, "Actually…"

Senna looked at her, and Guinevere jerked her head towards the doorway. A large shadow stood there. When he saw Senna looking at him, he moved into the light.

Considering the circumstances, Senna thought he looked remarkably well. There were dark circles under his eyes, he was thinner than he had been, and judging by the way he was leaning against the doorframe, he hadn't regained very much of his strength back yet. But he was up. Better than her.

Guinevere walked out of the room, but neither of the other occupants really paid any attention. Senna waited for Dagonet to say something. Silently, he limped into the room and sat on the single chair, only a few feet away from Senna's pallet. It made her feel especially vulnerable, to be lying almost on the ground, too weak to even sit without the aid of pillows. She didn't like the feeling.

She was still waiting for him to say something, but all he did was look at her, and Senna couldn't read his expression. She couldn't see fear, but neither could she see affection or even relief. Finally she couldn't take the silence any longer. She searched her tired mind for something safe to say.

"How—How is Lucan?" After she asked the question, Senna realized she really did want to know the answer. Here at the wall, with so many Romans, there was so much trouble a young boy like Lucan could get into.

Dagonet adjusted himself on the chair, "He's fine. Staying with Vanora—Bors's woman—and her brood for now."

"That's sensible," Senna said a small part of her relaxing. A very, very small part.

A minute passed silently by as they stared at each other. Senna looked anywhere but Dagonet's eyes, while trying to pretend she wasn't avoiding his gaze. She focused on the top of his head, then shifted to his nose, his mouth, his chin…she memorized each feature, wondering if this would be the last chance she had to see him. She blinked, and was startled to realize she had tears in her eyes. Quickly she raised her hand to brush them away, hoping Dagonet wouldn't notice.

"I'm not sure I understand you," his sudden statement caught her by surprise.

Unsure how to respond, she did what she did best—tried to make a joke of it.

"Aye, I believe that's a common sentence between a man and a woman. It might even have been the first thing they said, when they originally came across each other." She said with grin.

Dagonet's brows raised slightly, but he didn't smile, his lips didn't twitch even a millimeter. Senna clenched her jaw, looking down.

"I know. Most people don't." She muttered to the covers. He didn't say anything, so she continued, "Really, aside from my father and Guinevere, I can't say there's been anyone who understood me. There have been people who have respected me, used me, liked me, feared me." She looked up at him, "Hated me."

Dagonet sighed. Senna thought it was a rather strange response to her statement, but forced herself not to analyze it.

When he did speak, it was yet another question she did not expect.

"Used you?"

Was that a glimmer of concern she saw in his eye? She squashed down the burst of hope, and forced her tone to be matter-of-fact.

"Yes. My father died when I was ten. He was a captain in the cavalry. I think perhaps he had let slip the fact that I had certain…abilities…to his general." She looked down, then up again, wanting to see Dagonet's face as she continued, "My abilities to see into the future. The past. The present." He didn't even blink. She didn't know if that was a good or bad thing, so she simply kept speaking.

"As I said, my father died when I was ten. The day after his body was returned to our house, I was taken against my will to the general's home. He forced me to work for him. In a way, I suppose it was good for me. It was the first time I'd ever had to try and control what I saw and dreamed." She couldn't hold back her shudder, and she closed her eyes as the old fears momentarily swamped her.


	10. Chapter 10

**So chapters 9, 10, and 11 were originally going to be just one, but when I finished it, I realized it was wayyyy to wordy to put into one chapter, or even two. So I know the ends/beginnings are a little bit random, especially if you don't read them all at the same time. But hey, it's a really big update, so readers should be happy! Thanks everybody for the reviews, and for adding my story to your favorites! It really is encouraging. I hope you enjoy the following chapters!**

Gathering her courage, she continued, "I was ten, you must understand…I had no notion how to defend myself against a man as powerful as the general. I didn't even understand what I was doing at first. I would tell him which battles he could win, which ones he would lose. And I would tell him that my visions weren't always true. The future can be changed by any random, small event, you know. A sparrow flying in the path of an arrow can change the course of a battle, and turn the tides of war." Now Senna wasn't looking at Dagonet, or anything else in the room. Her eyes were distant, caught on the memories of her past.

"When I was fourteen, the general started a march towards the home of Marius Honorius, to fight the Woads there. A report had come that their numbers had been increasing to the point that even the guards of the fort had become frightened. The journey was so long, he decided to take me with him, so that I could continue to tell him my visions. It was during the long months there that I finally started to see what I had done." She lowered her head down so that her blonde hair hid her face.

"Though I had lifted no swords, put no arrows to a bowstring…there were bodies lying on the ground after battles that would not have been there, had I kept silent." She murmured. She was silent for a few moments, lost in thought. Fourteen, and pathetically ignorant. More than half because the general had worked to keep her so. Used his dominance, power, and strength to keep her submissive and unquestioning. She took a breath.

"My father was Roman, I assumed because he had fought on the side of Romans, Rome was right, and absolutely supreme. When they fought, all I saw were dogs, fighting other dogs. Each side obeying their leader's commands with loyalty and very little thought of their own. And men need that. They need someone to govern them." She met Dagonet's eyes, "But they should be people like your Arthur, who are able to distinguish between what is right and wrong, to be able to walk the line between weakness and viciousness without stumbling into either side. And that was not the general."

She tried her best to skim over the next few parts,

"We were in Britain for over a year, just fighting. I started lying about my visions, not every time—I didn't want them to realize what I was doing—but I was sick of being the string on their bows. At that point I was also starting to…become more, um, womanly, and the men started to take notice. In particular, the general's son. He was often in the tent the same time as I, listening to me tell my visions. He took to following me around, patting me, and other mostly harmless things. Then one night I had a dream of a great battle that would take place, and end in a great victory for one side, though my vision was too clouded to see which side it was. Still, I told the general. I was frightened; my dream had been vivid enough that I realized this battle would change the course of my own fate. As the men prepared for the battle, there was a lot of drinking going on. More than normal. Thinking back now, I realize the men were beginning to get scared and depressed, they'd been away from their homes for too long." Senna inhaled slowly, "The general's son was one of the ones who really got into his cups. I'd stepped out to gather some night-blooming herbs—at that point I also functioned as a sort of healer for the army—and he followed me. He announced his interest in me and proceeded to try and…persuade me, to share his interest. But before anything could happen, we heard the horn from camp, announcing an attack. He ran back."

Senna paused, frowning. "After that…I don't know, everything gets a little foggy. I stayed away from the battle, hiding behind some bushes. I assume it was the Woads that attacked them, but I couldn't see anything from where I sat. I could hear the fighting though. When it quieted, I finally moved, farther away from the encampment. I'm not sure if I was really in my right mind at that point…as I was moving away, I saw a horse move away from the smoke and dust that lingered on the battle field. It was Dusk, without a rider. You see, he had been one of the general's prize stallions, and we knew each other very well. He actually…was the mount for his son. That's when I realized Rome had lost the battle. I mounted Dusk and rode into the forest…we managed to get along just fine, for four years.

Then I started having visions stronger than I'd ever had before. About you," Senna gestured to Dagonet, then to the door, "about Arthur, all his knights. That's how I managed to show up at Marius's fort the same time as you." She shrugged

"I wasn't sure why I needed to go with you; I just knew I needed to."

Finishing her speech, Senna found herself somewhat short of breath. Her pulse beat quickly, both from the effort of speaking and from the emotional memories. She reached for what looked like a glass of water beside the bed. God forbid it should be that tea.

She quickly discovered the bandages on her hands were not designed with the patients need to consume liquid in mind. The pressure of lifting the mug stung her hands, and as she moved it towards her mouth, it started slipping down. Senna watched in dismay, knowing she wasn't going to be able to stop it.


	11. Chapter 11

**Please review! With an update this big, I really am looking forward to hearing reviews. I'm worried this bit was a bit rough, as I have a little trouble writing intimate/romantic scenes (Love reading it, but when it comes to writing it, its almost painful) Please, review, so I know I should keep working at it, tough scenes and all!**

Dagonet could, however, and he reached forward to remove the mug from Senna's hands. Skillfully he lifted it to her lips and gently poured some of its contents into her mouth. It _was_ water, she was relieved to note. Once he set the mug down again, the knight reached down and lifted one of her bandaged hands. He gave a small grunt, then stood and moved to a corner of the room where the healing supplies were being kept.

"Guinevere should have changed your bandages earlier. Woad." He picked up a roll of ragged but clean cloth, and walked back to her pallet.

Senna's lips twitched. The fact that he was insulting Guinevere's healing practices had to mean he cared for her, didn't it?

"I didn't really give her a chance to, so it's not her fault," She commented mildly. Dagonet only grunted again.

He carefully began to unwrap the cloth from her hands. Senna tried to ignore the burning feeling, but couldn't help the whimper that escaped as he peeled away the last piece of cloth lying on her skin. Reflexively she jerked back, but Dagonet's hands held her own firmly, so that she couldn't even wiggle her wrist.

He grimaced, frowning at her hand as he turned it over, then began bandaging it again. Senna caught a glimpse of her fingers, and felt slightly nauseated. They looked like singed raw meat.

"You shouldn't have done it," He told her, a note of irritation in his voice. Senna stared at him, having never seen him show any hint of negative emotion before.

"I'm…sorry…" She murmured, blinking back tears, "I can honestly say I was only trying to help you…I thought maybe you wouldn't mind the magic, if it honestly helped." She swallowed against the lump in her throat.

He paused his movements, and his hand tightened on her wrist, causing Senna to hiss. Immediately he relaxed his grip, but he stayed still, staring at her hand intently, before jerking his gaze up to hers.

"That's not what I mean!" His voice was just short of a yell, and Senna jumped, her eyes widening. He didn't seem to notice, though his voice was quieter as he continued.

"I was trying to save you, and then you go and try to kill yourself anyway. I don't care about the bloody magic. It was surprising, but hardly something that is going to make me angry at you, considering it's as much a part of you as your soul." Dagonet took a deep breath, and resumed wrapping her hands.

Senna stared mutely at him. It was the longest speech she'd ever heard him give.

"So…you—you aren't…" She said tentatively, pausing as she tried to re-gather her thoughts. She wanted to ask_, do you care for me? Is that why you're angry? Was Guinevere right; are you actually in love with me?_ But she couldn't bring herself to say such things. She fell silent.

Neither said anything as he re-bandaged her other hand, then threw the old cloth out. To Senna's joy, he didn't leave after the task was done, but came back and sat in the chair. It was then that Senna noticed the lines of strain in his face. She frowned, her own healer's nature coming out.

"You shouldn't be trying to tend me when you need someone tending you as well."

"I'm fine." Dagonet told her, "Simply tired."

"You were shot by a quarter-dozen arrows. You're more than tired."

Dagonet stared at her silently for a few seconds, then unceremoniously lifted his simple brown shirt over his head.

Senna stared, she really had seen right when the magic had taken her over. White scars were all that remained of the arrow wounds. There wasn't even bruising around them. Raising her eyes, she gasped, and blinked, thinking perhaps her eyes were playing tricks on her. They weren't.

On Dagonet's chest, right in the spot above his heart, there was another, much bigger scar. A scar in the shape of a woman's hand.

"What…" Senna switched her gaze down to her own hands.

"I…that's…" She remembered the sudden rush of magic pouring from her body to Dagonet's.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know it would scar you." She told him dazedly.

He huffed, "Stop apologizing for things you shouldn't be sorry for."

"But…doesn't it bother you?" She could only imagine how people would stare if they saw it. Perhaps they might even think Dagonet was subject to some kind of curse. A million horrible scenarios flew through her head. He didn't know how badly people could react to something they viewed as "witchcraft".

She realized her breathing was very fast and shallow, but she couldn't help herself. She was frightened, she had been since she'd woken up. Frightened of her past, her future, how Dagonet—how everyone—would react, frightened of herself. She wasn't supposed to be able to do things like that.

Dagonet lay a hand at her throat, feeling her pulse.

"Calm down, Senna. Calm." He raised his other hand to stroke her face, down her shoulder and arm, to one of her hands. He lifted it to the scar on his chest.

"I don't mind, at all. Your hand was on my heart far before now." There was concern in his eyes, but his lips curled up in a small smile.

Senna's breaths slowed as she processed his words. "Really?"

He nodded, and Senna felt her expression widen into a grin that she couldn't stop.

"Well…good. I've been searching for a heart like yours for a long time," She remarked.

Dagonet leaned down and gently kissed her forehead. Senna shivered, and this time it wasn't from trepidation.

She stared into his eyes for a slow moment, willing him to kiss her again, next time not on the forehead. She was fairly certain he was about to oblige her when the moment was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Jerked back into reality, both of them became aware of a horrendous babbling sound coming from outside the door. Without either of them inviting them in, the door opened, and Bors, a pretty woman Senna assumed was Vanora, Guinevere, and thousands of children flowed into the room.

"You're awake! Bloody fright you both gave us!" Bors shouted, pounding his brother on the back, and then reaching for Senna. She couldn't help but cringe slightly.

"Here now! Don't go flattening the poor girl, you lout!" Vanora cried, slapping away Bors's arm before it reached Senna. She smiled at the blonde girl.

"I'm Vanora. Been helping care for you the past few days."

Senna smiled back at her, "Thank you. I'm Senna."

One of the children—in reality, Senna saw, there were only about a dozen—detached himself from the pack and jumped onto Senna's pallet.

"You're okay!" Lucan hugged her, having the sense to be careful. He then sprang up again, "They have a lot of food here! And I have friends," He pointed to the group of children who were either investigating the room, clambering on their parents, or staring at Senna.

Senna laughed, "That's wonderful."

"All right you little monsters," Vanora called, "We need to go get more supplies!" She looked back at Senna, "We were only stopping by on our way. It's good to see you awake,"

Senna nodded, a happy smile still on her face. Vanora gathered up the children and herded them out the door.

Bors lingered for a moment, "Thank you," He said to Senna, his expression serious, "I'm indebted to you, we all are."

"No," Senna shook her head. "It's not an action for a debt. Just a friendship,"

"Bors!" Vanora yelled from down the hall, "Come and take some of your children!"

Giving a shrug, Bors exited—rather quickly Senna noticed.

"Dagonet, you go back to your room, you need rest." Guinevere ordered. He gave a negating grunt.

"And so does Senna," Guinevere pointed out. She was right, Senna felt her eyes drooping. Sleep was a comforting thought, yet at the same time, she fought it, wanting to have every last second with Dagonet.

However, Guinevere's last comment had caused him to stand, he caught Senna's eyes with his own one last time, and gave her a smile, a look she returned.

"Go on," Guinevere said mildly. Quietly the knight exited the room.

"Where's Arthur?" Senna asked sleepily.

An almost despairing look passed over Guinevere's face.

"I'm not sure…and I need to talk to him terribly."

She said something else, but Senna was already falling into the shadows of sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

The next day enough of Senna's strength had returned that she was able to move around—very slowly—on her own. So it was, that when she heard a cry for Arthur to come to the top of the wall, she followed. Very slowly. She wasn't sure if the sense of foreboding she felt in her chest was her magic, or simple intuition. Half-way up the steps she paused to catch her breath, only to see Arthur coming back down. He brushed past her without realizing who she was. Lancelot was right on his tail, his expression dark. A moment later, Guinevere also came charging down the steps.

"Guinevere!" Senna said sharply, trying to catch her attention.

The Woad shook her head and kept walking. Senna frowned, the pushed herself forward again, this time at a bit faster pace.

The Wall was crammed with Roman guards, but it was still easy for Senna to pick out and stride over to the Sarmatian knights. Lancelot aside, they were all there. Their expressions were replications of Lancelot's as they looked over the wall. For the first time, so did Senna.  
She caught her breath, staring at the massive army of Saxons essentially at their doorstep. Was she surprised? No. None of those who had made the journey with her were either, she suspected. Even a child like Lucan could understand how close behind them they'd been. How the block by breaking the ice had only been a temporary barricade.

It was not the Saxons arrival that made her gasp. It was the sheer, insurmountable amount of men. Still staring out at the army, she moved to Dagonet's side and touched his hand, needing the security his presence gave her. He glanced down at her, and Senna saw a faint trace of the look that he had given her before he'd charged out on the ice, a time that suddenly seemed decades ago. Still, she felt a cold shiver run down her back, harshly enough that Dagonet noticed, and he slid his hand over her wrist, gently pulling her closer.

"I'm going to pack." Galahad muttered as he brushed past his comrades, his head ducked so that they couldn't see his expression.

Gawain, with one last look over the wall, followed. Tristan melted away without anyone really seeing him go, as was his way.

"Dagonet, come on. We've still got our plans to make," Bors's tone was quieter and more defeated than Senna had ever heard it.

Dagonet glanced at his brother, then made a motion for him to go ahead.

"I'll go tell Vanora and the children t'start packing," The large knight muttered to no one in particular as he stalked off.

His brothers-in-arms not there to hear, Senna voiced the certainty that she'd known as soon as he'd given her that look.

"You're not leaving, are you?"

He shook his head, "Arthur needs me."

"He didn't ask you to stay." Senna knew the knight commander that well, at least.

"No."

Senna sighed, fear, and sorrow making her frustrated. "Well then why are you staying? Bors, Gawain, Galahad, Tristan…even Lancelot, Arthur's best friend, they are all leaving, to take their own lives back…why aren't you?"

He glanced away from her, out at the army that, at that moment, threatened everything and everyone close to Senna. He wasn't going to answer her.

"I'm staying as well, then."

That caused a reaction. "No! You will go with the other knights and villagers. A caravan is leaving in the morning, and you will be on it."

"No!" Senna.

Dagonet frowned at her, "And what would you do if you stayed, exactly? You have none of your magic, and I'm not fool. You don't know how to fight. You last a second in a real battle."

Senna pulled away from him, so that she could look directly into his face. "I can't leave you." She folded her arms, glaring at him. She was immovable in this.

* * *

Senna stared at the door to her chamber as it creaked shut, blocking Dagonet from her sight. By the time they'd gotten to the bottom of the stairs, Dagonet had been half-carrying her. Her own weakness infuriated and frustrated Senna. Only when she could no longer hear his footsteps did she allow the sob that had been building spill out. She sank down on her pallet, her hands over her face.

"Curses on them all!" She spat bitterly. Dagonet was right in the fact that she would be useless during the battle, and in the end he had won the argument. Senna would be leaving in the morning, with Vanora's group.

Angrily Senna grabbed the mug sitting on the bed-table, ignoring the spears of pain in her hands, and flung it against the wall hard enough that the thick clay shattered into many pieces. She watched the slivers scatter across the floor, then closed her eyes. She inhaled deeply, turning her thoughts inward.

She could feel a faint sort of void in her heart and her mind, a place where she'd always been able to sense certain things, a Sight-enhanced intuition. Her senses felt dull and useless, and she could conjure up no visions, no matter how hard. She couldn't even see the grey fog that indicated a vision not certain enough to be clear. It was…Guinevere had said her Sight was only depleted, but Senna was beginning to fear it was gone forever. Somewhat to her own surprise, Senna realized how strongly she hoped that would not happen.

No matter what horrors her sight forced her to see, no matter what nightmares her visions had caused her, it was the only way she could help her friends, and herself. She would never regret saving Dagonet, even if her powers were gone, but at the same time, she wondered what use it would be if she'd saved him once, only to see him die again?

_That will. Not. Happen._ She told herself firmly. _Not so long as you have breath in your body_.

_Aye, true enough in it's voicing, girl, but what can you do about it? You've agreed to leave with Vanora and the villagers in the morning. And that's probably a good thing. You'd get yourself killed, if that really is your goal, but that's about it. _

Senna silently argued the point with herself late into the night…but by the time her eyes finally closed, she had made a decision—or part of one, at least.

* * *

She left in the morning with the caravan, riding next to the wagon with Vanora and her children. As the wheels took her farther away from so many people she'd begun to care for—and even love—her mind stayed with them. Or one, in particular.

_She'd gone early to Dagonet's room, knocking on his door. He'd opened it, and without even bothering with a hello, Senna had pushed herself in, walking to the far wall. Turning around she'd noticed he was fully dressed and armed._

"_Ready so early?" She'd barely muttered the words. He'd nodded, not saying anything. Of course._

"_Have you spoken to Arthur, then." Despite her wording, it wasn't phrased as a question._

_He'd tilted his head down slightly as he answered her, "Yes…and somehow one of Vanora's children heard...and it got 'round to Bors, and….well it actually ends up all of us knights are staying to fight." Senna couldn't tell if he felt guilty or glad of that fact. _

"_Oh…" Had been her neutral, subdued response._

"_Was there something…?" Dagonet had asked her._

Was there? Even now Senna wasn't sure why she'd gone to his room in the first place, when she would have seen him later. She certainly hadn't been planning what she'd actually done…

_Senna had stood staring at the knight for a drawn-out moment before she walked purposefully over to him, and pulled his head down to her own, touching his lips softly once, then again more passionately as he responded. They'd kissed for several minutes, ending by pulling away just enough, and resting their foreheads together. "Don't die." Senna's throat had been clogged as she'd tried to force the simple words out. But once she got them out, it was hard for her to stop, "Please, please don't die. I couldn't…don't…" She'd inhaled shakily, pulled away so that she wasn't touching him at all, and looked straight into his blue eyes, her expression solemn and her eyes glimmering with unshed tears. "I love you." She said it flatly, her words coming out almost angry in her frustration. She'd only said it once, and then she'd found herself sliding out the door and running down the hall, without really even thinking about it, a trail of tears running down her face, and a swell of determination welling from her heart._

That had been the last she'd spoken to him. She'd waved goodbye to him, when she caught sight of him up on the hill. She hadn't been able to see his face.

Well, it wouldn't be long before she saw it again. She'd just have to hope he didn't see hers.

Rubbing Dusk's neck, she leaned low and whispered to the stallion, "I'm going to need your help."

Sitting back up, she looked at the sky, grey and blurred with smoke. "And yours too, please," She murmured with a sigh, "You and I both know I can't do this on my own."

As she said the last word, she felt a small spark in her chest. It wasn't much, just a very slight pulse. A small smile curled the blonde-haired girls lips as she lifted her hand above her heart.

* * *

**Sorry for taking so long to update…but I've been experiencing horrible writers block with this story once more, and I'm feeling like the quality of this story just keeps deteriorating with each chapter I write…or perhaps I'm just having one of those artistic-depressions that are supposedly so common *lol*. In any case, some reviews would really help me write now (pun intended). **

**W/ desperate affection, SHS**


	13. Chapter 13

**All right! Update after forever! I hope you like it!**

**

* * *

**She wasn't doing magic, per se…it was more a trick she'd learned from Roman scouts and hunters over the years. _Keep on going…I'm not here…you don't see me…I'm still riding right along with the caravan, see how relaxed I am here? Keep on going_…She repeated in her head. Of course, it wasn't as if any of the women, children, and very old men in the caravan who might care had the power to stop her, and none of the Romans cared. Well, they didn't care about who they thought she was.

She and Dusk were drifting, hoofstep by hoofstep, towards the forest. Once they finally reached their destination, Senna dismounted, and stood holding Dusk's reins. She'd "found" a new bridle for him in the supply cart earlier. There might be times when she needed it, especially today. She waited in the forest as the tail end of the caravan slipped by. She was so caught up in her own thoughts that when a huge shadow suddenly descended on her right, she cried out and leapt away, hitting the tree next to her. Tristan's hawk tilted it's head as if she were puzzled by Senna's silliness.

"Well, hello you." She murmured. The hawk gave a whistle from the branch where she perched, and then spread her wings, springing upward with a powerful flap onto a branch a few feet away. She gave a quieter, chirp-like sound, and bobbed up and down.

"You want me to follow you?" She asked. The hawk bobbed more rapidly. Senna frowned at it. Such a creature shouldn't have so much intelligence. Only animals long exposed to magic—like her Dusk—gained human-like intelligence. Or, if they hadn't been long exposed to it, they had—

_Come…_

The voice whispered in her mind. The hawk looked at her as the voice whispered through her head…but it was male, and Tristan's hawk was female. And this was Tristan's hawk…she peered more closely, and then inhaled sharply in understanding. Where Tristan's hawk had golden animal eyes normally, two brown, very human looking eyes stared at her. She very much doubted any of the Saxons practiced that kind of power, so she finally mounted Dusk and followed the bird. It led her through the woods, away from her original destination.

She wasn't sure when she first noticed the Woads around her. They glanced at her with the same distant curiosity she gave them, though neither stopped their work. Hers following the hawk, theirs preparing for the coming battle. Their numbers gave her a small measure of hope. Perhaps this battle would not have as tragic an outcome as she feared.

She was very sure when she noticed the leader of the Woads. Merlin. Guinevere's father. He was painted with full Woad battle regalia, and also the symbols of sorcery and power. He was much more…frightening than his daughter. But he would do her no harm. Senna rode up until she was a few feet from the man. He stood conversing quietly with his daughter. When Senna dismounted and moved those last couple yards, he turned to her. The hawk flew to perch on a stick beside his head. After a moment, her eyes went back to normal hawk eyes. Intelligent, sharp, but animal.

"You…wished to see me?" Senna pushed her hair back. There were leaves and twigs from the ride in it. If her hair were dark and her body painted blue, she would surely seem as Woad as any of those around her.

"You are the dreamer my daughter spoke to me about." He murmured. "Of course, I knew before she told me—I could feel your power whenever you passed by. But those times were few enough." He looked at her, his eyes too intense, an odd spark beneath the earthen color. The spark of power, sorcery. Senna held his gaze, though it made her uncomfortable.

"Your magic is depleted," He said finally. "You do not know how to use it properly." Something in his tone made Senna bristle.

"I think I've done well enough." She said defensively. Guinevere, behind Merlin, cracked a smile.

"I wasn't implying that you are not talented. You simply lack instruction." His tone was grave. Was it ever anything but?

"Well, it really doesn't matter. Did you call me here for a reason? I thought so, but if not, I have to go figure out how to save my leader, my lover, and all my friends' asses." Senna spoke bluntly, her tone almost harsh. This man, with his subtle words, was chipping away at her confidence whether he intended to or not.

"That, my dear, is the very reason I have called you." He stepped backward and turned away slightly. "Come with me, I will help you replenish your power." He picked up a bowl of blue Woad paint.

"You're not serious. _That_ replenishes my power?" She frowned at the bowl in his hand. What if it didn't wash off? Not that it mattered if she died. Although, being buried looking like some sort of fish was just a little bit too undignified.

"The ingredients are part of a spell that will." Merlin was walking away as he spoke. Senna looked at Guinevere and raised her eyebrows.

"Follow him. Trust me, if not him, Senna. He won't tell you this—he's too guarded—but you are more important to this battle than you think. Your desire to aid Arthur and his knights stems not just from love, but destiny." Her dark eyes were serious. She had, Senna realized, just as much if not more at stake this day than Senna herself. So Senna did as she asked. She trusted her.

Blue was supposed to go well with blonde hair anyways, wasn't it?

* * *

Fortunately, there was no mirror for Senna to check after Merlin was done with his spell. He had painted circles and stars and jagged lines all over her arms and face. He'd spoken strange Woad words, and words that weren't Woad, but some other language that put fire in Senna's heart, and burned away the weakness that lingered inside her. He'd thrown a bit of white powder over her head. And suddenly, without so much flash, that welcome glow just below her heart was back. Her magic, such as it was.

"You are more powerful than you think." Merlin murmured. He had painted on her arms symbols that mimicked the ones on his own. He'd also coated his hair with the same powder he'd tossed over her head.

"Excuse me?" She frowned at him.

"No, I cannot read your mind. Not like this, at least."

Well that was comforting.

"Your thoughts show on your face, especially to those who are observant. You think your magic is less than it is. Or, perhaps, you are afraid to acknowledge it, because you know it would burden you with more responsibility…and greater guilt."

His words hit the perfect spot, and Senna flinched, just a bit.

"Just what are you implying, then?" She questioned.

"I'm not implying anything at all. I'm saying you have a power as great as my own, and if you use it just the right way, you will change this battle's outcome. Have you not had dreams of this day?"

Senna started to speak, but suddenly he shook his head, and cut her off.

"Of course you haven't. Your magic has been gone. And I am not tied closely enough with the knights to see it either. Your actions with Dagonet changed whatever I might have known." He saw her face, and sighed.

"That is a good thing, girl. One of the reasons you're here at all was for that."

"So…aren't you supposed to…guide me, or some such thing?" Senna asked, slightly bewildered now.

He shook his head again. "No. I must work my magic in its own way, and you must go figure out how you are supposed to work yours. Do not wipe off the dye, the symbols give you extra power while they are there. Once they are gone, that power will leave."

On that note, he gathered his materials and left, fading into the forest. Of course, Senna wasn't alone. Everywhere it seemed there were Woads disappearing into the trees and new ones reappearing a moment later. Senna reached up and felt the dye, arranged in small circles on both sides of her face.

"Right." She stood from where she'd been kneeling, "Whatever happened to Dusk? If one of these Woads has decided to take off with him…" She found him right where she had left him, in exactly the same condition, except for one major thing. He was covered in blue paint. His symbols were different from Senna's, crescent shapes and spiny loops. On his forehead was painted a mask. He didn't seem bothered by it, but looked at Senna with embers in his eyes.

Ready? He seemed to ask. He curled one foreleg under himself and sank to the ground in a bow. Senna settled himself across his back.

"I'm ready. I'm not sure what I'm ready for. But I'm ready."

And she was.

* * *

**C'mon, you didn't think I was going to end it so soon, did you? But I promise, only a few more chapters to go. And here's the happy thing—once the battle's over, which will probably happen in the next chapter, I'm going to start stories for some of the other knights! Please send a review if you liked this chapter, or if you didn't, and if you'd be interested in reading my planned "sequels" to FTYF. **


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